


Rock Scissors Paper

by bizzybee



Series: Requests [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 06:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23346817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee
Summary: Caspar has a confession to make. Linhardt, tragically, isn't making it easy for him.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Series: Requests [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835620
Comments: 7
Kudos: 153





	Rock Scissors Paper

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by Sa! Thank you for requesting! <3

Caspar is itching to ask Linhardt something. 

Linhardt isn’t sure what, honestly, but he’s known his friend long enough to recognize the signs. They’re sitting, or, rather, Caspar is sitting and Linhardt is lying, in the grass of the courtyard of Garreg Mach. Caspar's upright, legs stretched out, polishing his pair of silver gauntlets while Linhardt lies, hair loose and blending into the grass with a book in his hands as he rests his head next to Caspar’s legs. 

He can tell something’s wrong by the way Caspar shifts, somehow even more restless than usual. He can hear his breath change every time he opens his mouth as if to speak, then shuts it just as quickly. 

It’s when Caspar starts bouncing his leg up and down so that it brushes against the crown of Linhardt’s head in the most aggravating way that Linhardt finally sighs, letting his book fall face down on his chest and lifting his chin to glance up at Caspar.

“What has you all riled up?” he frowns. Caspar glances down at him before redoubling his focus on scrubbing the grime off his right gauntlet, and Linhardt chooses to ignore the pink rising in his friend’s cheeks, his few freckles sticking out even more against the blush.

“What? I’m not riled up. I’m fine. You’re riled up,” Caspar blurts. 

“Okay,” Linhardt says, and returns to his book. 

He has to hide his smile when Caspar immediately lets out a heavy breath before saying, “Well, actually.” 

Linhardt sets his book down again, humming at Caspar to continue. 

Caspar seems resolute in his refusal to look back at Linhardt, his brow furrowed. “Can I ask you something weird?”

Linhardt shrugs. “Sure.”

Caspar takes a deep breath, leg bouncing again as he sets his gauntlet in his lap, staring down at it and not at Linhardt. “Have you ever..” he raises his hand up to scratch the back of his neck, letting out a nervous laugh. “Have you ever kissed someone?” 

Hm. Of all the things Linhardt thought he’d ask. 

“A few people.” Linhardt yawns, bringing his hand up to briefly cover his mouth. 

“What? Who have you kissed?” Caspar scoffs. 

“Does it matter?”

“I mean, yeah.” Caspar shifts restlessly. 

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why does it matter?”

Caspar purses his lips. “I guess it doesn’t,” he says quickly. 

“Okay.” Linhardt moves to pick up his book again, but Caspar keeps talking. 

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

“The- The kissing.” 

Linhardt looks up to see that Caspar’s face is well and truly red now, still attempting to bore holes into his gauntlets through sight alone. 

“Hm. It was all right, I suppose.” Linhardt shrugs again, and Caspar jumps when the crown of Linhardt’s head brushes against his thigh. “Frankly, it's all a lot more effort than I’m willing to put into anything.”

Caspar's shoulders drop. “Oh. Okay, yeah, that makes sense, I guess.”

“Why does it make sense?” 

“Well, I don’t know.” Caspar waves his hand in a wordless gesture. “I just know you don’t like to put effort into a lot of things, that’s all.”

“You may be right.” Linhardt huffs, then pushes himself to a sitting position. “I’m off to my rooms. Afternoon nap.” 

“Oh, okay!” Caspar says, scrambling to his feet. “Hand up?”

Linhardt frets his bottom lip, then takes Caspar’s extended hand, allowing him to be pulled to his feet. Caspar seems to linger for a moment, keeping his grip on Linhardt’s hand, his thumb pressing into the back of Linhardt’s wrist. He stares straight forward at Linhardt’s chest, face still red. 

“Caspar?” 

And Caspar startles, finally lifting his gaze to meet Linhardt’s. “Uh, sorry.” He releases Linhardt’s hand. “Was just thinking about something.” He laughs again. 

Linhardt’s much too tired to ask questions, so he doesn't, instead gathering his things and setting off.

* * *

The second time something strange happens is when they’re sitting in the dining hall, Caspar having just dragged Linhardt out of his room with insistence that if he doesn’t eat for an entire day he’ll die. 

So they sit, Caspar with a giant bowl of peach sorbet, Linhardt with a much smaller one, the dining hall empty except for the two of them. 

“So I was thinking,” Caspar says. 

Linhardt swallows. “What about?” 

“When you said kissing wasn’t worth the effort.”

Linhardt doesn’t reply, knowing Caspar will continue speaking until he cuts him off.

Also, his mouth is full of peach sorbet. 

“Have you just never kissed someone you like?”

Linhardt pauses for a moment, chewing. “I’ve been attracted to every person I’ve kissed, Caspar. Otherwise there’s even less of a point to it.”

“Well, no, duh, I know that,” Caspar scoffs, shoveling a bite of sorbet into his mouth and attempting to mumble something around it. 

“Goddess, Caspar, chew and swallow first.” 

Caspar’s cheeks go pink and he begins chewing with renewed vigor, swallowing victoriously before saying, “But have you ever  _ liked  _ someone.”

Linhardt scoffs. It's all so terribly grade-school. “Hubert."

“Hubert?!”

“Oh, yes,” Linhardt says, taking another small bite of sorbet. “He has everything I admire in a man. Very tall, taller than me, even, thin and wiry, never speaks except to threaten people.”

Caspar’s eyes grow wider the longer Linhardt goes on. 

“The way he has no lips or eyebrows, the fact that he refuses to wear anything but black, his obsession over Edelgard... Let’s just say that if Hubert von Vestra walked through the dining hall doors this instant,” He gestures with his spoon, “I would get up, do a cartwheel, then walk over and kiss him on the mouth.”

Caspar squints. “You’re messing with me.”

“Without a doubt.”

“I was trying to ask seriously,” Caspar grumbles, stabbing at the remnants of his meal. 

Linhardt sighs. “Well, since you asked, I suppose the answer would be no. I’ve never, as you so sophisticatedly put it, kissed someone who I’ve  _ liked  _ in that way.”

He doesn’t miss Caspar’s small smile at that. 

“Have you?” Linhardt asks, because he assumes Caspar expects him to. 

“Have I what?” 

“Kissed someone you liked.”

“No,” Caspar says immediately, and the blush on his cheeks darkens. 

“My, that was a quick response.” 

“I just haven’t, okay?” 

“All right.” 

They pause for a moment, and Linhardt looks down at his half finished plate of sorbet while Caspar scrapes the last bits off of his own. Linhardt passes his bowl across the table. 

“If I were to like someone,” Linhardt says carefully, looking right at Caspar. “And they liked me, too, I would want for them to tell me about it directly.”

Caspar’s blush is reaching all the way to his neck, disappearing into the collar of his tunic. “Me, too.” 

“All right, then.”

“All right.” 

Linhardt gestures towards his bowl of sorbet. “Finish that for me, will you? I need to go to the library.”

Caspar reaches forward, taking the bowl from his grasp. Linhardt stands to leave. 

“Talk to you later?” Caspar asks. 

Linhardt shrugs. “Of course.”

The last thing he sees before he turns away is Caspar’s small, secret grin, directed at the bowl of sorbet in front of him.

* * *

True to his word, Caspar finds Linhardt in the library later. He stands, watching Linhardt sleep with his face against the pages of a book, slumped over the table. Moonlight shines on his pale skin, casting shadows where his eyelashes lay across his cheeks.  _ He looks beautiful, _ Caspar thinks. 

Or, at least, that’s what Linhardt likes to believe happened when reminscing about this moment later. He was asleep at the time, and therefore witnessed none of it.

What he does know is this: Caspar shakes him more gently than usual, without yelling, even, and he blinks awake, sighing and turning his head to rub his eyes. “... time is it?” he asks blearily. 

“Time for you to go to bed,” Caspar quips, and Linhardt snorts. 

“This book isn’t that good, anyway.” 

Caspar is already gathering all the other books from the table, placing them in a stack. “Come on, Lin. I’ll carry them for you. You look tired.” 

“I’m not that tired,” Linhardt protests, but yawns anyway. “I only just woke up.”

“I think I know you better than that.”

Linhardt considers this for a moment. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” 

“Now, come on, I’m taking you to your room.” Caspar picks up the stack of books, and they’re balancing much too precariously for Linhardt’s liking, but Caspar manages to fit the entire pile under his chin. Casually, he adds, “If I’m going to get you to like me, I gotta start making sure I take care of you.” 

“What?” Linhardt perks up. 

“I said, come on, I’m taking you to your room.” Linhardt can see the blush on Caspar’s ears from where he’s sitting. 

“No, after that.”

“Huh?” Caspar squeaks, then clears his throat. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you did.” 

Caspar shrugs. “Well, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”

They stew in silence for a moment, and Caspar doesn’t move, or again insist that Linhardt get up to go sleep in his own bed.

“Caspar,” Linhardt says finally. 

“Uh huh?”

Linhardt props himself up on his hands. “Do you like me?” It all feels so incredibly guileless, so childish in the wording, that he wonders if Caspar even realizes what he’s implying. 

“What? Definitely. We’re best friends, Linhardt. Of course I like you.”

Linhardt rolls his eyes. “Caspar.” 

It’s all he needs to say. Caspar shifts, putting the pile of books back on the table and steadying them with his hands before turning to Linhardt, hands on his hips. “Yes, I like you, okay? And I really, really want to kiss you and I bet I could make it worth your while and it’s what I’ve been trying to tell you but you just don’t get it.” He huffs, turning away and crossing his arms. 

Linhardt blinks. Okay. Okay. All right. Okay. 

“And I know you’re probably not going to want to be friends anymore,” Caspar sniffs. Is he  _ crying _ ? “And that’s okay. I just wanted to say it.” He pauses. “Um, that’s all.”

“Caspar,” Linhardt says again. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Linhardt cocks his head. "You don't seem fine."

“Aren’t you even going to say anything?” 

“Caspar.”

“What?”

“Look at me, please.” 

Caspar reluctantly turns around, staring at a point near Linhardt’s head.

“I told you I’ve never kissed someone I like.” He pushes out his chair.

“Yeah,” Caspar mumbles. 

“But I like you.” He stands up.

Caspar looks up at that. “I- What? You do?”

Linhardt sighs. “Yes, Caspar. I do. Quite a bit, actually.” He takes a step closer.

Caspar grins. “I bet I could get you to enjoy kissing.” He glances down then back up again. “Only if you want me to, though.”

“Is that a challenge?” Linhardt smiles. 

Caspar flushes bright red. “You bet!”

“You’re cute.” Caspar’s blush deepens at this, and Linhardt can feel a bit of heat rising to his own cheeks as well. “Very well, then. Challenge accepted.” 

“Huh?”

“Kiss me, then. If you’re so sure in your abilities.” Linhardt steps closer again.

Caspar flushes. “Okay, fine.” He marches forward, jutting his chin out. Then, he pauses, eyes flitting, suddenly timid. “I’m going to kiss you now. Okay?”

Linhardt laughs. “Yes, Caspar. That’s okay.” 

He meets him halfway as Caspar brings a tentative hand up to cup Linhardt’s cheek. 

Caspar’s lips are rough against his, and Linhardt can feel the calluses on his thumb as he strokes Linhardt’s cheekbone before resting it on his temple. 

Linhardt brings his hands up to rest on Caspar’s waist, grip tightening when Caspar pulls away after a moment. 

“There,” Caspar breathes. “Do you like kissing now?”

Before Linhardt can reply, Caspar surges forward again, pressing a kiss to his cheek, the underside of his jaw, the hollow of his neck. At Linhardt’s sharp intake of breath, Caspar smiles against his skin. 

“Maybe, ah, maybe a little more,” Linhardt admits. Goddess. 

Caspar pulls away. “Just a little?” he pouts. 

Linhardt snorts. “You kissed me once, Caspar. I’ll need to do much more research on the matter in order to draw a different conclusion.”

“Research?” Caspar asks, then trails off. “Oh. Research! Right. Research.” He pauses for a beat, staring at the wall behind Linhardt. Then, much too loud for it being the middle of night in the library, he says, “So can I help you with that?”

Linhardt laughs. “See, just as I said. Cute.” 

Caspar pouts again, and Linhardt leans forward to kiss his bottom lip, gently. “Yes, Caspar. I would love your help with this.”

Caspar grins. “Yeah! Great. Awesome. I’m going to kiss you again, now.”

And when he does, Linhardt’s heart stutters. With the right person, he thinks, maybe he doesn’t mind putting for the effort. 

Not if that person is Caspar. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, feel free to check out my pinned tweet on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bizzybee429?s=09) and come talk to me on [tumblr](https://officialferdinand.tumblr.com)!


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